


Burning Day

by WanderingHobbit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Gen, Vomiting, burning of Orcs, everyone lives!, funny younger dwarves, kind of gross, nausea inducing smells, the older Dwarves love it, the younger ones...not so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4425251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingHobbit/pseuds/WanderingHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle is over, and the Dwarves are preparing for the ceremonial Burning Day. They burn the bodies of the Orcs and Wargs on a massive pyre to help the spirits of their fallen comrades move on to the Halls of Waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Day

**Author's Note:**

> This just sort of popped into my head while watching the third film. I hope it's decent as this is my first attempt at a real story in years.

Kili was resting on his cot in the healing tent he shared with his brother; he had been on forced bed rest for nearly two weeks and he was becoming irritated. Fili was allowed to walk around and help their uncle for a few hours at a time, so Kili was often left to his own devices.

The archer suffered a head wound that kept him unconscious for longer than he cared to admit. The muscles in his right shoulder were torn and the bone broken thanks to a mean hit from a mace on the battlefield. Kill vaguely remembered the searing pain and the feeling of helplessness until he was knocked out with the butt of said mace across his temple.

When he woke up, it was to his brother’s face and Bilbo’s sobbing. According to them, he had been out for nigh on two weeks and even the Elven healers were unsure when he would wake. 

Fili himself had only minor injuries compared to that of his younger brother. Besides scrapes and bruises, he had a broken ankle (which, according to Oin, was healing nicely) and a few cracked ribs. One of the Elven healers had gifted the golden-haired prince with a set of crutches to help him move around while his ankle was on the mend.

The rest of the Company had made it through the battle relatively unscathed, no one worse off than Kili. While the younger prince was resting, most of the Company was helping to clear the battlefield or tend to the politics of the mountain.

Today, however, was the Burning Day. The survivors of the battle had piled up the carcasses of the Orcs and Wargs when looking for the bodies of their comrades for burial purposes. Today, Kili would be let out of the healing tent in order to join the rest of the surviving Dwarves to watch the Orcs and Wargs burn.

It was an old ceremony both Dain and Dwalin insisted on completing. Apparently, according to Ori, the burning of their enemies was supposed to help the survivors make peace with the battle and all the lives lost. It also helped the spirits of the fallen move on to the Halls of their Maker, Mahal. 

The Elves and Men weren’t nearly as excited as the seasoned Dwarf warriors for this day. While the Dwarves were bustling about and preparing for the Burning, the Elves were busy making and distributing herb pouches to counteract the smell and the subsequent nausea of the burnt corpses. 

The flap to the entrance of the tent was pushed aside as Fili hobbled in, Ori and Bilbo in his wake.

“The Burning Ceremony is about to start, nadadith. Uncle has tasked me with fetching you.”

Kili scoffed. “I don’t need an escort to make it to the pyres, nadad.”

The archer hauled himself up from his cot and made to stand, Bilbo at his elbow to help if necessary. 

“Should we grab a few of the herb pouches the Elves have prepared? Only I assume the smell is going to be absolutely horrid,” the Hobbit wondered. 

Fili merely shook his head. “Dwalin said the smell isn’t nearly as bad as one would think. We’ll be fine, Master Baggins.” 

Bilbo muttered under his breath as he followed the three young Dwarves out of the tent and into the open air. The four made their way to the middle of the battlefield where the pyre was constructed and found the rest of the Company waiting for them.

“There ya are! Hurry up so we can get the Burning started!” Dwalin shouted impatiently at the younger members when he spotted them. 

The Company and Dain stood clustered near the other warriors yards away from the pyre. A young Dwarf who Kili recognized briefly from the battle walked over to their group and handed Thorin a lit torch then bowed. Thorin took it and walked over to the pyre, Dain at his heal.

Once they were a few feet from the pyre, both King and Dwarf lord turned to face their subjects. 

“Today we keep with tradition and burn our enemies in order to ensure our fallen brothers find their way into the Halls of Waiting!” Thorin shouted to the sound of raucous applause. Once the noise died down, he continued, “Today, we show all those who threaten our people just what happens when Dwarves go into battle!” More cheering met these words. 

Thorin turned around and tossed the lit torch onto the massive pyre. The flames quickly started licking at the corpses of Azog’s army and began slowly eating their way up the wooden beams. Kili watched the Burning with rapt attention, much like his brother and everyone around them.

Until the smell hit his nose.

It was revolting. And clearly he wasn’t the only one to think so. He looked around him and noticed the younger Dwarves of both the Company and the Iron Hills attempting to cover their own noses from the horrible assault of the burning corpses on their senses.

Ori was the first to succumb. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he promptly fainted into Nori’s arms. Nori was attempting to keep his brother’s unconscious body off the ground and cover his nose at the same time.

Both Bofur and Bombur were having a hell of a time with the smell as well. Bofur was looking up at the sky and taking deep breaths in order to stop himself from vomiting all over the place. Poor Bombur was looking decidedly green in the face.

Kili looked over at Fili who was grimacing with watery eyes. Kili himself was trying his hardest to breathe through his teeth.

“Nothing beats the smell of burning Orcs in the morning,” Dwalin took a deep breath through his nose and grinned wolfishly. 

“Aye, it is the smell of victory if ever there was one!” Dain called back.

The older members of the Company and the seasoned warriors from the Iron Hills all looked quite content and didn’t even seem to notice the smell wafting off the great pyre. Many of the younger Dwarves lost their fight to their rising nausea and were retching into the grass. To his left, Bilbo was also surrendering his breakfast to the offensive smell.

Kili felt the bile rise up in his throat and his stomach fighting against his wishes. Hearing Bilbo and some of the other Dwarves throwing up, he couldn’t hold it in. The young prince began to expel his own breakfast onto the ground. He felt a hand rubbing his back and knew Fili was trying his best to make him feel better.

When he was finished, Fili grabbed his brother’s arm and declared they were leaving. 

“We’ll be going with the lads then, shall we?” Bofur shouted as he pushed his very green and very horrified younger brother after the princes. He grabbed hold of young Ori’s legs as Nori heaved his brother’s upper body into his own arms and the two toddled off, Ori slung between them. Bilbo rushed after them.

The small group of Dwarves ended up in Kili and Fili’s healing tent. Both said brothers collapsed onto the younger’s cot while Nori and Bofur dropped Ori onto the remaining one. Bombur fell in an undignified heap onto the floor and Bilbo curled up into a ball next the princes’ cot. Bofur and Nori took the two chairs and sagged into them.

“That was…repulsive! I thought Dwalin said it wasn’t that bad?!” Kili yelped. 

“Aye, perhaps for those who have witnessed Burning Days before it’s not so bad, but I can’t say the same for us!” Bofur took off his furry hat and waved it in front of his face. 

Bilbo was moaning and writhing on the floor. “I really wish I had one of those Elvish herb pouches right about now.”

Back at the Burning Ceremony, only the hardiest of Dwarves remained. 

“Looks as if the younger generation can’t withstand a Burning Ceremony. What a shame,” Dain shook his head in consternation.

Dwalin stood tall, with his arms across his chest. “What a bunch of babies.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was more amusing in my head. Still, I hope someone enjoys this!


End file.
